Fierce
by MarburyBlur
Summary: As the youngest member of the BAU gets the opportunity to face his high school tormentor, Angry Reid is unleashed.


Halfway, through the case, the team finally had a lead.

"His name is Gilbert Buckler, 33 years old, and his life of crime started in high school where he was suspended multiple times for bullying. He then progressed to spousal abuse and child abuse; obviously, they left him, and he is now living off of unemployment benefits in a very ramshackle…well, _shack _on 3288 West Street. Sending directions now," Garcia said, as usual, in a perky yet to-the-point business voice.

Hotch was staring at Reid, having noticed how the younger agent had blanched when the name was mentioned. He decided to talk to him about it later, in private.

"Okay, so this man is probably not the UnSub; rather he might be just an accomplice/ we'll bring him in, quietly. Only two people will go. Reid, can I speak with you?" Hotch didn't ask. He ordered.

Morgan made the inevitable elementary "oooh"-ing noise that came with Hotch asking to speak to someone. Reid brushed past him, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

"Reid. Do you have some sort of connection to Gilbert Buckler?" Hotch raised his eyebrows and looked at the younger man, who was staring at his shoes. They were silent for 23 long seconds (Reid had counted).

Finally, he looked up and rushed, "Hotch, please don't take me off the case! I-I can be professional, I swear! This is barely even personal for me; I can maintain some distance and-"

Hotch interrupted, "Slow down, Reid. Tell me how he's connected to you."

Reid sighed and said quietly, "Um, we went to the same high school…and he got suspended for…yeah." That answer obviously not satisfying Hotch, Reid exploded, "He was my bully, alright? Don't…don't tell the team. I'll tell them eventually." Reid stared up at Hotch with brown puppy dog eyes as he asked meekly, "Am I off the case?"

It was Hotch's turn to think. After an even longer silence than the last (31 seconds), Hotch answered, "No, you're not. In fact, I want you to go with Morgan to arrest him." Reid looked at Hotch with confusion in his eyes. Hotch side and elaborated, "Everyone's been bullied at some point in their lives."

Reid's jaw dropped in disbelief as he quickly connected the dots. "Yes, even me. I want you to go because hardly anyone ever gets to confront their past tormentors. Obviously, you are living a better life than him and…I want you to go rub his face in that fact. But professionally."

Hotch raised his eyebrows and Reid mumbled, "Yes, Sir." He turned, dismissed. He'd only wanted to stay on the case, not confront gilbert. Reid walked back to the team, doubtful.

Hotch called out, "Morgan, go with Reid and bring in Gilbert."

"Alright. C'mon, kid." Together, they walked out to the SUV. The second the doors were closed, Morgan turned to Reid in the passenger seat and asked, "What did Hotch want with you?"

Reid stared out the window and mumbled, "You'll find out soon enough."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

In the car, Reid had unknowingly shut down any attempts at conversation. Morgan eventually stopped, realizing Reid was completely distracted.

They pulled into gilbert's driveway and Morgan took the key out of the ignition. Before Reid could leave the car, Morgan grabbed his arm and said, "Look, I don't know what's bothering you, but get it out of your mind and focus on the case."

"I am," Reid snapped. He pulled his arm away from Morgan and hopped out of the car.

Morgan stared at him and followed as Reid walked up to the door and knocked angrily.

"Reid…" Morgan began. He was cut off when the door opened, revealing a fat, sweaty man with a receding hair line.

The man stared in shock, before yelling out jovially, "Spency!" both FBI agents could smell the alcohol on his breath. "How've ya been? Haha, actually, I don't give a damn! Is this your bodyguard? Or your 'lover'? Haha, I always knew you'd swing that way!" Reid felt more anger and shame the longer he stared at the wash-out in front of him.

"If I'da known ya was comin', I'da cleaned up. Just kidding! Haha! Where are your nerd glasses? I miss those. But it really is nice to see ya. God, where's a goalpost when ya need one?"

Morgan was about to step in when he saw Reid's spine stiffen at the mention of a goalpost, but Reid stepped forward first.

"Listen, Gilbert. I don't know about you, but _I've_ moved on since high school _14 years ago._ Actually, it's pretty obvious that you're only craving to go back to the brief seconds of your life when you were in your prime. Now you're just a washed-up manatee who's going to die alone. Oh, sorry, is 'manatee' too big of a word for you? How about a hint? They're also called 'sea cows'. You can say you don't care all you want, but it's obvious you care _very_ much. Another thing. _Don't_ call me 'Spency'. You may call me Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Reid and I'll call you a deadbeat, because that's what you are. Oh, and by the way, I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI and we're bringing you in for questioning about the rapes and murders of Clarence Michealson, Jack Hammond, and Conner Mariano." Reid blinked calmly at the overweight man as he tottered back and forth, looking for a way to regain control of the conversation, and coming up with what he thought was a brilliant solution.

Gilbert swung his meaty fist at Reid's head. Reid easily sidestepped the slow sucker-punch and let the momentum carry the drunken man to the floor.

"And now, you're under arrest for the attempted assault of a federal officer." Reid stepped back as Morgan clipped cuffs onto Gilbert's thick wrists and began reading him his rights. Morgan sat the intoxicated man down on the curb as they awaited the arrival of the squad car coming to pick him up.

Morgan turned around to talk to Reid, all he while keeping one eye on the sweating man.

"Reid? What was that?" Morgan asked warily. Although his friend had calmed down, the air around him seemed dangerously charged.

"Morgan…" Reid sighed as a warning.

"No, Reid. Explain to me what's wrong, not as a teammate, but as a friend."

"…Gilbert was my bully in high school in Vegas."

"Well, yeah, I got that. I don't need to be a profiler to understand that part from your conversation. But what did he do that was so bad?"

"I'm sorry, Morgan, but I don't really want to talk about of the most humiliating times of my life, alright?"

The two were silent for a moment and Reid realized he hurt Morgan by refusing to open up.

"He tied me to a goalpost," Reid mumbled.

Morgan glanced at him, surprised the private doctor was saying anything about the subject and more surprised at the content of what he was saying.

"He and his football goons beat me up and took my clothes and left me tied to the goalpost all night in only my underwear until the janitor came and freed me in the morning…I was 12." Reid refused to look Morgan in the eye, blushing profusely at the stupidity of all of it.

"Well, I'm proud of you; look who gets the last laugh."

"Yeah…" Reid said hesitatingly. They both looked over at the cuffed, sweating man who was rocking back and forth while sitting on the curb.

"Um, Morgan? Hotch said that everyone has had a bully at at least one point in their life. Did you-?"

"No, kid. I'm not saying anything about that."

"But, Morgan!" Reid pouted. "That's so unfair!"

"We ain't goin' there. Not today." Morgan glanced at Reid's crestfallen expression and chuckled.

"Someday, Reid. Someday."


End file.
